


Yet Mortal Looks Adore His Beauty Still

by Ebyru



Series: Asylum/ep 17 'verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Hallucinations, M/M, Season 7 Spoilers, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebyru/pseuds/Ebyru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel isn't as alone in the hospital as he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yet Mortal Looks Adore His Beauty Still

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for season 7's episode 17.
> 
> Inspired by:  
> After a while you learn the subtle difference  
> between holding a hand and chaining a soul,  
> And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning,  
> And company doesn't mean security,  
> And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts,  
> And presents aren't promises...

Dean secretly visits Castiel in the institution once per month, and contacts Meg for updates on a weekly basis. Sam is (of course) aware of these _happenings_ , also having witnessed years of their unspoken love for each other.

Since Meg is the one in charge of Castiel’s wellbeing at the institution, she makes sure the feed of the room—when Dean walks in, as well as leaves—is never seen by anyone’s eyes other than her own. That’s the deal her and Dean came up with so things would go along…smoothly.

It’s been normal visits; Dean trying to make Castiel answer, snapping his fingers in front of his face, the angel not responding, and Dean sitting on the bed, exasperated and guilty. Meg found those visits not even worthy of watching. 

But something about the way Dean crosses the room this time makes Meg sense she should keep her eyes open and glued to the monitor.

Dean steps into the room, watching his catatonic angel friend like he has all those weeks before. He sits on the bed next to him, patting Castiel’s knee lightly. Castiel does nothing except droop a bit, eyes scanning over the foreign hand. His eyes return to the previous point on the wall soon after.

Dean shifts closer, his hand wrapped around Castiel’s knee, holding him down almost. Castiel’s gaze drifts around the room, across Dean’s face, but not acknowledging his presence. Dean swallows the bulge in his throat, whispering into Castiel’s ear how sorry he is. Meg rolls her eyes at the monitor.

Castiel’s body goes limp, and he nearly falls down against the bed when Dean’s lips touch his own, hesitant and plaintive, but it doesn’t discourage Dean. His fingers trail up to Castiel’s thigh and he squeezes lightly, trying to snap him out of this haze, to bring him back among the living. Castiel growls, immobile still, and Dean’s lips work against Castiel’s, drawing them into his mouth, salt water mixing in with the spit-slicked stolen kisses.

Dean wipes his eyes and rushes out of the room, ignoring the sinking in his stomach at knowing Meg got to witness his own mini-mental breakdown, and is probably laughing her head off.

~~~~~~~~

“Why did you kiss me, brother?” Castiel asks Lucifer in the privacy of his room.

“Did you like it? I like to mix things up,” Lucifer smirks, crossing his legs from the dresser.

Castiel scowls and looks away, eyes still fixed to that one spot on the wall. If he shifted but a few inches over, he could look at the doorway, and maybe imagine Dean walking through it. Why couldn’t it have been Dean?

“Oh, poor baby,” Lucifer teases, “you wanted it from Dean, didn’t you? Too bad.”

~~~~~~~~

Dean returns in spite of himself, and nothing has changed about Castiel except the dorky parting in his hair. Maybe the orderlies were having a bit of fun or trying to get a rise out of him. Dean focuses on the detail, and how unlike Castiel it is, but how much it _should_ be his style. He smiles, sadly, at the angel who still holds the key to his happiness.

Dean’s fingers are carding through Castiel’s hair, making it messy and tangled as it usually is, when Castiel turns and looks at Dean. His gaze is so strong, brings back so many fond memories, that Dean has to lean in again and take what he’s been missing. 

Castiel is pliant this time, opening his mouth for the intrusion, and leaning in when Dean cups the back of his head. Dean lets the rules and regulations and morals of this all just dissipate like Castiel’s sanity. He needs this man, this angel, more than he’ll ever understand – with or without the right permission.

~~~~~~~~

“You seem to like kissing me, Lucifer,” Castiel says flatly, but not angrily.

“And you seem to be enjoying it,” Lucifer grins, pinning Castiel down against the bed. “Want me to continue?”

Castiel knows this isn’t what he wants. Well – technically – it is what he wants, but it’s not the _person_ he wants to be doing it. He wants Dean, and his lips, and his beautiful jade eyes, and those strong, skilled hands against all over him. But Dean is gone, he’s probably never coming back, and he needs some kind of touch. He needs someone to be with him. He needs distraction from _yearning_ for the days when he couldn’t remember the man he’s in love with. 

The hallucinations Lucifer provides will have to suffice. A gentle lie is always a better pillow to sleep on than the cold, hard truth.

~~~~~~~~

Dean returns a third month, skin almost boiling with the watchful (and aroused) gaze of Meg upstairs in the control room. He hates her as much as he hates himself for not being able to resist Castiel even in this state. 

Dean is reaching out, pushing Castiel against the bed, crawling over him and claiming his lips like lovers that have been torn apart for years would. If Dean is to be honest with himself, every month he spends waiting feels like years have passed. Years he should be spending by Castiel’s side, trying _everything_ to make him look – really look.

Castiel’s eyes flutter for a moment, and Lucifer’s smirk turns into Dean’s gentle, guilty frown as he leans in for another kiss. Dean doesn’t look like that, not at Castiel, not at anyone except Sam. This couldn’t be Dean. He’s only ever kissed Castiel once, and it wasn’t this soft drag of lips he’s doing. It was hungry and pleading and filled with fire. This kiss is frost-like, painful, devastating. It makes Castiel flinch.

Dean’s lips trail down Castiel’s neck, over his shoulder, across his collarbone, and his fingers follow in their wake. His hips press in against Castiel’s and, as much as it’s hurting him, as much as he wishes he had the strength to will it away, he realizes they’re both hard.

Castiel can feel the tears collecting at the brim of his lashes. This isn’t fair. This is exactly what he wanted, this is who he wanted, and it has to be another of Lucifer’s tricks because it’s just too perfect. Dean looks as broken as he feels, and it makes his chest ache where he’s certain he would have a heart if he needed one.

Dean’s fingers brush tentatively against Castiel’s tented, white pants and Castiel growls. Castiel’s fist crashes into Dean’s jaw and sends him to the ground, flat on his back. Castiel has a wild look in his eyes, the same look he had when Dean had decided to say yes to Michael. 

Dean sits up, gets to his feet, but doesn’t approach. Castiel jumps off the bed and slams Dean to the wall, holding him a foot above the ground.

“Stop this! Stop this now!” Castiel roars, eyes blazing with anger. 

Dean nods slowly; the grip on his neck is almost too tight to breath, let alone move. 

Castiel drops Dean to the ground and returns to his bed, palms against his thighs, rocking back and forward. 

Dean doesn’t look back as he leaves the room. When he’s in the parking lot, he very nearly falls from the shock. Had Castiel known he was there the entire time? It didn’t matter. He made it clear he doesn’t want Dean in that way anymore.

Sam watches Dean practically fall into the driver’s seat, but doesn’t say more than, ‘you alright?’

Dean forces a smile. 

Sam wants to say something more, wants to console his big brother, but Dean says ‘I think you should visit him next time. And all the other times after, too.’

Sam doesn’t ask why. He has a feeling Dean will be drinking a lot more soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Shakespeare's 7th sonnet


End file.
